INCURSION: Knightmare (Knight's Bane Trilogy Book 1) Page 16

  "Doctor Stewart. You will leave the labs to Doctor Sorenson," Boomer's voice had come out cold and hard. "Right now you are treading on very thin ice. If I begin to think that you are actually threatening my partner with physical violence, I will end you. Are we clear?"

  Stewart had gulped audibly. He had nervously rung his hands and had started stuttering and stammering an apology. Turning quickly, he went to his office to grab his jacket and phone and then left the lab.

  Doc had looked at her partner and said, "I do believe we no longer have a friend in this office. Thanks for the back-up."

  Boomer had smiled and put the shotgun on safe, slinging it across her shoulder. "No problem. Guy was a creep before this started. I'm going to go wander through his office," she had replied.

  He partner had nodded in agreement. "Before you go, can you help me drag the bodies out of these bags. I want to work on these creatures."

  The two women had wrestled the cadavers out of their body bags and had prepped them on the exam tables. As Doc had begun to slice into them with her scalpel, her partner had wandered into the office to snoop around.

  About four hours later, the weary priest had removed the mask from her face and called for Boomer. "Can you come help me?" She had asked. "I want to bag these things up and get them over to the crematorium before our good doctor gets wise."

  They had placed the bodies back into the body bags, and each had grabbed a gurney, wheeling them around the corner to the crematory. As they had entered the section, there was a lone technician waiting behind a desk. He had looked up, puzzled at the unexpected intrusion.

  Doc, still dressed in her surgical cover gown, had been the first to speak. "I've got two here that need your services ASAP."

  The technician had shaken his head. "No ma'am. There is nothing scheduled currently. Do you have the correct paperwork? I don't think I've ever seen you around here before."

  Doc had shaken her head, and the two agents had pulled out their credentials. The team's priest had spoken up. "Special Agent Noelle Sorenson, Department of Homeland Security. This credential here is my authorization. I will sign any paperwork that you need me to sign, but you will fire up the furnaces. Now."

  The face of the technician had gone pale and the eyes had become slightly glassy for a moment. Then his eyes cleared and he had said, "I don't like it, and you will need to fill out all kinds of paperwork. But you can do that while the furnace is working."

  As the technician had walked away, Doc had seen a faint blue glow rising from her credentials in the dimly lit lab. It was so faint that she would never have noticed it in a well-lit room, and the glow had faded to nothing as she watched. I'll have to ask Agent Smith about this later, she thought.

  The technician had sat behind his console and had begun typing a series of instructions into the computer. Doc and Boomer had stacked both bodies onto the conveyor belt that fed into the furnace and had closed the massive door.

  They both had heard a "click" and a "whoosh" as the natural gas furnace inside lit fully. Soon the furnace itself was at 2100 degrees, and the inner chamber door had opened, allowing the bodies to be shifted into the furnace. Ninety minutes later, the female agents had walked out of the hospital and had hitched a ride in a police cruiser to head back over to the hotel.

  AS DOC FINISHED HER RECOUNTING, Ghost spoke up. "Revenants. They were revenants, weren't they?"

  She nodded at Ghost, then turned to Six. "Ghost is right. They were revenants."

  The team leader spoke up. "Ok, so, other than having to put a ton of bullets into them, how do we kill these... revenants?"

  Doc sighed and opened up her small leather book. "As I mentioned before," she began. "Revenants are basically a cross between a familiar and a zombie with some vampire speed and strength built in. Revenants have been traditionally used to guard the vampire nests during the day, as well as enforcers to keep those in its nest in line. They are fast, hungry, vicious, and completely loyal to their master.

  "When a traditional vampire 'turns' or infects a human, they can either turn them into a vampire or into a revenant. When a recently infected vampire tries to turn someone else, the result is almost always a revenant. Newly-minted bloodsuckers don't have the control and willpower to create a true vampire yet."

  Spooky raised his hand, and the priest nodded at him. "Doc, if these things are as loyal and obedient as you say, then they were set loose by the vampire to purposely terrorize the town, correct?"

  Doc wearily nodded, her exhaustion was evident. "That would be my guess. It is the explanation that makes the most sense."

  "So again, Doc. How do we kill 'em?" Six chimed in. "And can they be cured?"

  The vampire specialist consulted the pages of her book.

  "No, they cannot be cured." Doc continued to read from the little book. "Unlike vampires, the changes are irreversible. As for killing them? They are designed to take a lot of punishment. Like zombies, hits to the head will work and explosives will work as well. Like zombies, they do not receive pain from the nerve endings in their skin, so burning them, or using a baseball bat, will not work.

  "On the up side, they are not technically undead, so they are mortal. Do enough damage to the heart or brain, and they will die. Think of them as if they were doped up on extreme PCP. Hard to stop, but they still have to have a heart and brain to live. They are also not 'contagious;' a bit will hurt, but you will not become a revenant. Although their saliva tends to be teeming with filth and decay, so you will probably get a nasty infection. Any other questions?"

  Heavy looked up. "Will the special ammo do anything to them?" he asked.

  Doc shook her head. "No, Heavy. Other than normal bullet damage, the silver ammunition is designed specifically for vampires." The priest looked around.

  Agent Smith's voice rose from the phone in the center of the table. "Thank you, Doctor Sorenson. We'll add this information to our database. Would you be so kind as to forward your notes when you get a chance?"

  "I'll send them as soon as I can," Doc replied. "You might want to contact the Vatican as well; they have better records available."

  Agent Smith paused momentarily. "Thank you, Doctor," he continued. "I'll have Timothy make the call. Back to the problem at hand. It's obvious that there are at least a few more vampires and some of their minions in the area. I've sent a re-supply of ammo for you. The helicopter should be there shortly. So what is your next step, Agent Holstein?"

  Six looked around the table. He sighed and said, "At this point, sir, we're going to be combing through our data for any patterns. I've got Spooky working on the UAV and any other sensors we've got. Can you task us a satellite or two for extra coverage? And anyway we can get some reinforcements for this?"

  Agent Smith paused and then spoke again. "I've tasked one of the NSA's KH-12 satellites to you. Spooky, you... now have access to the satellite in real time. It should be in geosync orbit overhead in about ninety minutes. Unfortunately, I don't have any reinforcements to send you. This is code-word Top Secret, and you need to do your best to keep your actual mission and targets under wraps. You've already raised a big enough stink that we're working overtime to keep the President from noticing. So you can't get any of the locals to help, either."

  Spooky spoke up. "Agent Smith? Any response to the requested vehicle specs that I sent? Any chance we can get that before the op is over?" he asked.

  Six looked at his youngest agent and mouthed, Vehicle specs?

  "Yes, John," Smith replied. "I approved the load out. Norbert's currently working on the specs now, and we should have it ready in a couple of days. I'll have it flown out to you, if you are still there when it's done. If there's nothing else, I'll let you get back to work. Keep up the good work."

  As Agent Smith broke the connection, Six looked at Spooky. "What did you order?" he asked.

  The young agent looked too smug for anyone's comfort. He could not keep the mischievous tone out of his voice. "I thought about ways to upgr
ade the War Wagon. Sounds like version two will be here soon."

  Six turned his head as someone knocked on the door and ordered them to enter.

  The assistant police chief of Trinidad was standing in the doorway. "Agent Holstein? We have a really weird situation, and I think it should be brought to your attention."

  The lead DHS agent nodded and motioned for the man to come into the room fully.. "Come on in. What's up?"

  Trinidad only has two pharmacies in town, one in the hospital, and one new chain across town," the assistant chief explained. "The head pharmacist at the hospital has not showed up for work for almost two weeks. I've known Virgil for twenty years, and he almost missed his kid's birth because he was at work.

  "Originally, he asked for a week off for vacation. At the end of that week, he began calling in 'sick.' Every day, for the last six days, he has called in sick at 8:45am on the dot. Today, he failed to call in."

  The agents exchanged questioning glances as Six took notes.

  The assistant chief continued, "The hospital's HR gal said that she called him today when he failed to show up or call. She said he answered the phone, but when she asked him if he was coming in to work, he started 'giggling.' That was the word she used, 'giggling.' Virgil hasn't giggled since he was three. Instead of sending one of my men up to his house, I thought I might give this to you guys. Is this something you want to check out?"

  Six looked around at the team, then back to the officer. "Absolutely. This sounds like something I'd rather have us handle. What's the doctor's name and address?"

  The assistant chief consulted his notebook. "Virgil Templeton." He rattled off the address. "Virgil lives at the top of one of the low foothills. He's the only one on the crest. It's a large hacienda-style ranch with an inner courtyard. He's a shorter guy, about five foot two, and is real skinny. He is sixty-three, according to records, and is bald on top with a white mustache. Are you going to want any of my people or sheriff deputies to go with you?"

  "No thanks, chief," Six shook his head and replied. "We'll handle this one solo. Just keep the perimeter to this building secure as we instructed. The HRT will be checking around here in town, and we'll follow up with Mr. Templeton. I'll let you know how it goes."

  As the assistant chief left, Six looked at the team. "It looks like we've caught a break. Doc, any idea what's going on with the pharmacist?"

  The priest thought for a moment and then said, "Either he's now a familiar or he's been turned. No telling until we see him."

  "Alright." Six was planning and making decisions on the fly. "We're going to assume that there is a nest up there. Full combat gear. Spooky, when we get satellite coverage, point it at the house. Until then, get the UAV up and overhead. We've got ninety minutes until satellite coverage, so Doc and Boomer, you guys hit the sack. Take a power nap."

  They all turned as they heard the loud rotors of a very large helicopter. Six motioned for Heavy and God to go meet the chopper for the resupply. He then turned to Ghost. "Alright, monster hunter. What else can you tell me to help us prepare?"

  Heavy and God ran outside and looked up. Instead of a Black Hawk helicopter, they saw a large airplane with rotors on the wingtips and an extended ramp down the back. As the aircraft settled on its landing wheels, the two agents ducked and ran toward the plane. The cargo master was placing the last of four large duffels on the end of the ramp.

  Each of the agents grabbed two and hurried back toward the ops center. As they walked, they both heard the roar of the propellers increasing. Turning, they watched the V-22 Osprey virtually leap into the air and climb quickly into the clouds. Walking toward the War Wagon, they saw that the rear hatch was down, and Spooky was inside at the controls of the ever-present drone.

  The two men set the bags down and began opening them. Inside were multiple cans of linked ammunition for Heavy's machine gun as well as forty loaded magazines for the team's M4s and multiple magazines for the team's pistols. Digging, God was happy to also found several magazines of ammunition for his sniper rifle as well as several boxes of Norbert's special 12GA ammunition for Boomer's shotgun.

  The heavy gunner was grinning and laughing. "Gee, it seems like Christmas came early this year! Now we can go hunting!" he exclaimed.

  "Seems more like Halloween to me, but whatever." The sniper flashed a grin.

  Ninety-three minutes later, the team finally got complete satellite coverage over the area. They gathered around the electronics specialist's screens as the agent pointed out the layout of the house.

  "Can you show us thermal on this thing?" Six asked.

  "Not for this house," Spooky replied. "It has a clay tile roof. That clay has absorbed the sun all day and is radiating that heat right now."

  Six studied the house and the surrounding area intently. "Ok, team, here is the plan..."

  19

  GIGGLES

  FOOTHILLS EAST OF TRINIDAD, COLORADO.

  The War Wagon sat idling on the side of the road in the late afternoon sun. Just around the next hill was the half-mile long, winding driveway that led to the pharmacist's house. Six was reviewing the plan with his team.

  The team leader pointed to the various members of his team. "Spooky, you are going drive us up to the front drive. God, you're up through the roof hatch; I recommend the M4 this time... I want you in on close support with the team. Doc, you and Boomer are in the back, waiting to jump out as soon as Spooky stops. Heavy, Ghost, and I will be on the outside rails, hanging on and providing cover.

  "When we get to the house, we are all going to rapidly dismount and go through the front doors. Heavy has the ram. God, you are still up on the MRAP until we're inside and then I want you on the roof.

  "Once the doors are breached, Heavy, Boomer, and Doc cover right, Ghost and I cover left, and we assess what we have. Do not engage if it's just a crazy old man. If there are any creatures, weapons are hot. Anyone have questions?"

  Everyone shook their heads. Six nodded and said, "Alright then, let's mount up."

  God popped the roof hatch and stood up through the hatch. Six, Heavy, and Ghost all climbed out the rear hatch and up onto the side mounts of the massive truck. Boomer closed the back hatch and keyed her mic. "Six, Boomer. All set inside."

  Six's reply was immediate: "Spooky, proceed."

  As the War Wagon approached the pharmacist's driveway at the bottom of the hill, Spooky looked back and noticed one of the sheriff department's cruisers with no lights on following them at a distance..

  Spooky keyed his mic. "Six, Spooky. We have a local sheriff following us. What do you want me to do?"

  Six turned around and looked toward the road behind them and saw the cruiser hanging back about five hundred feet, traveling as slowly as the MRAP.

  "Spooky, Six. Stop the truck in the entrance of the driveway. I'll deal with the occupants. Heavy, Ghost, watch around us. This may be a distraction. God, you cover me as I approach."

  Spooky stopped the truck at the end of the driveway. Six hopped off and waved the police car forward while God provided cover.

  The sheriff's car pulled up, and a young deputy got out. The team leader realized it was the same young deputy whose family had been killed the night before. Even though it had been less than twelve hours since their investigation, the kid looked like he hadn't slept in days. The bags under his eyes and his rumpled uniform told the tale of his loss and suffering.

  Raising his fist to halt everyone, Six carefully walked toward the deputy. In a low voice, the veteran leader growled, "What are you doing here, deputy? You need to leave right now. You are interfering with a federal investigation, and I'm not in the mood to deal with any shit."

  The young deputy defiantly raised his chin. "If the SOBs that killed my wife are holed up here, I want in on the raid. I deserve that."

  Six muttered under his breath about foolish sacrifices and shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry about your family, but you deserve to live. Let us handle this. Get out of here while you still c
an."

  "I have nothing left. I'm going in there with you, or behind you. Your choice," the deputy said as he crossed his arms and stood tall.

  Six decided to change tactics. The DHS leader looked at the deputy and glanced pointedly at his pistol. "What are you going to use? Just your sidearm?"

  The deputy walked around and popped the trunk of his cruiser. He reached in and pulled out an AR-15, the civilian model of the M4 carbine that Six was carrying. He loaded a magazine and pulled the charging handle to chamber a round.

  Realizing the deputy was going to cause trouble on his own, Six reached into his pocket for his credentials. "I tried to warn you, kid." He flashed his credentials in the deputy's face. "I am Agent Burt Holstein from the Department of Homeland Security. This is a Top Secret-code word operation. You are hereby seconded to the operation and must forever keep your damn mouth shut. Do you understand?"

  The deputy's eyes glazed over for a second, then cleared. "I understand," the deputy said. A look of confusion briefly crossed the deputy's face, and he shook his head slowly. "What did you just do to me?"

  Six ignored the question, and instead, said, "Hand me your AR." The slightly confused deputy gave it to the federal agent.

  The veteran agent released the magazine and pulled the charging chamber as he cycled the round out of the chamber. He reached into the pouch on his side and grabbed three magazines. One of them went into the magazine well of the deputy's AR. Six then pulled the handle again as he loaded a new round. He handed the two spare magazines to the deputy. "Your ammunition was worthless. This new ammo will actually work on the target."

  Accepting the rifle back from the DHS leader, the deputy asked, "What are we doing at Virgil's house, sir?" The young deputy was curious about all the firepower needed to take down a kindly old pharmacist.

  "We're actually not sure yet, Deputy... Folsom is it?" The deputy nodded. "In fact, I think I can actually use your help with this. I want you to knock on the doctor's door. See if you can get him to come to the front door so that we don't have to kick it in.